


don't trust a—

by clairelutra (exosolarmoon)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, feat lowkey bi marinette, my casual alyanette is showing, ridic unresolved sexual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 02:56:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10324001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exosolarmoon/pseuds/clairelutra
Summary: Which, she was fairly certain, was the main reason why the next words out of her mouth weren’t,Careful there, minou, but instead:“Want me to fuck you up even more, kitty?”She only managed to hold onto her innocent look in the face of his shock for a few seconds before she broke down and winked, feeling her face heat as she nibbled on a smirk.To her gratification, that was all it took to break that shock into surprised, embarrassed excitement, his cheeks, ears, and neck all darkening rapidly.Ladybug’s mouth watered.Still, boundaries. Those boundaries she’d just… sort of accidentally overstepped. “Just kidd—”“Yes, please.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> don't trust me is playing on loop  
> what was i _supposed_ to name this?
> 
> BASED ON A RLY GR9 COMIC THAT U CAN FIND [HERE](http://yaminohikari.tumblr.com/post/148823364177/i-redrew-the-comic-because-i-didnt-like-how-it)

As rewarding and important as being a superhero was, Ladybug also found it _incredibly_ frustrating.

There were all the normal ways that much drag on a body could be an inconvenience, of course — the long, inexplicable absences that frustrated friends, parents, and teachers alike, the constant lack of sleep, missing engagement after engagement because of surprise akuma, the muscle aches that never went away, the necessary, identity-protecting lies — but there were also…

 _“Man,_ that akuma fucked me up good.”

… _other_ kinds of frustration.

Chat was dragging a hand through the messy mop of his hair, black gloves threaded with fine golden strands, covered head-to toe in little cuts and scrapes and rips. The angle she was looking at him from (as she bent down to retrieve her discarded Lucky Charm) emphasized his broad shoulders and lean hips, the lines of his abs and the curve of his waist, and Ladybug had to spare a moment to swallow saliva back into her dry, dry mouth.

As it turned out, five years of near-daily akuma fighting could do a body good.

 _Very_ good, as Chat probably-a-model-or-something-in-a-past-life Noir had handily proved in the past few years.

Ladybug, nineteen, hormonal, and tragically, _tragically_ lacking a significant other with which to appease those hormones, found herself rather frustrated.

Almost constantly, really.

(Which was to say that, between Adrien, Alya, Nino, and Chat, she was _surrounded_ by unfairly attractive people, all of whom were very good friends and might sleep with her if she asked, but whom Marinette also loved too much to risk making things awkward with nakedness. Or nakedness-asking. Or sexy-times of any sort.

Sure, she’d sell a lot of her soul to put her mouth on Alya’s frankly _awe-inspiring_ rack, but she’d sell more of it to keep Alya as a friend forever, and, thus, had reached an impasse.

A sleep-deprived, self-care-deprived, _intensely_ frustrated impasse.)

Which, she was fairly certain, was the main reason why the next words out of her mouth weren’t, _Careful there, minou_ , but instead:

“Want me to fuck you up even more, kitty?”

She only managed to hold onto her innocent look in the face of his shock for a few seconds before she broke down and winked, feeling her face heat as she nibbled on a smirk.

To her gratification, that was all it took to break that shock into surprised, embarrassed excitement, his cheeks, ears, and neck all darkening rapidly.

Ladybug’s mouth watered.

Still, boundaries. Those boundaries she’d just… sort of accidentally overstepped. “Just kidd—”

“Yes, please.”

Ladybug choked on air.

“… _What?”_

“Uh, I mean,” Chat spluttered, scrubbing the back of his head and directing his overexcited gaze in another direction. “You… you can kick my ass anytime? Uh, shit, wait—… That sounds—”

“I…” said Ladybug faintly, “I didn’t mean _fighting_ , you know.”

He sounded _really_ excited about that ass-kicking.

(Which was kind of awkward, because her own fantasy of the month was Chat sneaking into her room and pinning her hands to her headboard as he humped her ass and then took her from behind while she struggled not to moan so loud she’d wake her parents. There wasn’t a whole lot of _kicking_ happening there.)

Chat stopped and blinked at her for a few seconds, crease forming in his brow. “Then what…”

Ladybug looked up at the sky and waited for the penny to drop, biting down on the corners of her mouth and feeling a little less guilty than she probably should.

“…Oh.”

There it was.

_“Oh.”_

Coin, meet cobblestone.

“I was just kidding, you know,” she hastened to assure him, because she couldn’t quite identify that tone and wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to, even as it sank under her skin and fed the fire in her gut.

 _Boundaries_.

“Right,” said Chat, even fainter than she’d been before. He cleared his throat, and then his voice came out at a low, raspy timbre that made her knees go weak. “K-kidding, of course you were. Joking. A-about—… about sleeping with… with… _Um.”_

“Well,” said Ladybug, almost compulsively honest. “I mean, _sleep_ wouldn’t really be the main—…” By the time she got that far, Chat was already choking on air. Her face and belly heated further. “—I’ll just shut up now.”

“Don’t stop on my account,” her dorky, Adonis-passing partner croaked, putting a hand out to the wall beside him like he needed it for balance.

…She _really_ shouldn’t be considering shoving him back against that wall and trying to climb him like a tree, but…

Dorky.

And Adonis-passing.

And looking at her like he _really_ might not mind her trying it.

 _“Anyway,”_ she said, over-loud, turning on her heel and grasping her polka-dotted flashlight in her fist, doing her utmost to ignore the slick slide at the apex of her thighs and the sparks that flared to life in her limbs at the friction. “I’d better clean up.”

(Retransforming mid-battle was much more dangerous than she’d suspected — without a timer to cut their time short, who _knew_ what she’d end up saying?)

“Right,” said Chat, voice raw and thready and _oh geez_ this was really, really, _really_ bad for her self-control.

Ladybug swallowed.

_Just use Miraculous Cure, c’mon, don’t say anything else, you can do it—_

“For the record…” she murmured, “I bet I could totally fuck you up better than that akuma.”

_…Nailed it._

Chat made a broken laugh-whine hybrid of a noise that hit her like an adrenaline shot.

“’You bet’?” he echoed, rasping, ladykiller eyes bright and wild when she looked back at him. “You don’t sound too sure about that.”

He was baiting her and he wasn’t bothering to hide that he was baiting her, but the mix of his _voice_ and that _look_ and the obvious invitation in his words sank right into her thighs anyway.

One more moment of deliberation, and Ladybug tossed her reservations out like last week’s trends.

“Why, _chaton,”_ she purred, a hand on her hip and a smirk on her lips as she pivoted in place. “Are you asking me to _prove it?”_

Chat swallowed convulsively. The click of his throat echoed in her ears, the working of it an absolutely fascinating sight — almost, almost as fascinating as the way he leaned more of his weight against the wall with a punched-out little sigh.

Ladybug moved toward him like she was magnetized, hips swaying slightly under his heady gaze. Her tongue ran over her teeth as she imagined his mouth searing-hot on hers. “You think you could handle it, minou-minou?”

Chat stumbled back one step, and then another, opening and shutting his mouth futilely as the flush covering his exposed skin deepened.

Ladybug could honestly say she didn’t think she’d ever been this hungry in her _life_.

His back hit the wall before she reached him, and the _look_ he fixed her with…

And if she’d never been this hungry, then she’d never seen anyone that eager to be dinner.

She licked her teeth again, but didn’t speak until she had him between her and the wall, all his lanky limbs and rakish grins and superhero build close enough to put her hands all over.

By the time she was that close, he was panting, slumped against the wall like it was the only thing keeping him upright and staring at her mouth like it held his salvation, and it took everything in Ladybug not to jump him right there.

“Are you really sure, kitten?” she asked, faux-understanding and leaning in to carefully pin him there, using her body to block his way out. “Because I really just…” She reached out with her right hand, setting it on his hip and dragging it upward and swallowing a groan at the feeling of him. “…don’t think you _could_.“

Chat’s eyes flashed at the challenge, and she swallowed again, thrilled right down to her toes.

(She didn’t really think _she_ could either, but that wasn’t the point.)

“All this talk,” he rasped like a chainsmoker, claws punching little holes in the wall behind him, “and still no proof!”

He was either unaware or uncaring of the obvious untruth of the statement.

Ladybug took him up on it anyway.

“Well,” she whispered as she leaned in, her hand reaching a place where she could fully appreciate his left pectoral under her palm. “I _am_ a little new at this…”

Her breasts brushed his chest, sending delighted shocks through her system and—

 _Oh_ , with her hand where it was, she could _feel_ what that did to him.

She ran her thumb over his hammering, racing, stumbling heart and indulged herself in the feeling of firm muscles under her palms as she went up on her toes and breathed her next words over his lips.

“….So, be patient with me?”

And, with that, to the sight of Chat’s eyes fluttering shut over huge, dark eyes, she kissed him.

The first kiss wasn’t much, just a brief, fierce press that left her insides blazing and made Chat’s breath shudder and puff against her face.

“Am… am I on the right track?” she asked, breath knocked out of her lungs, and received a groan.

“Yes, yes, oh _god_ yes,” Chat whimpered, tapping her nose with the tip of his mask and honest-to-god begging for another hit, and there wasn’t anything left in Ladybug to refuse.

The second kiss was deeper, faster, hotter — though not by much. She taunted them both with fast, firm strokes, flirting and teasing and melting away when he went in for anything longer, coaxing coaxing _coaxing_ until his hips were jerking against hers and his whimpering lost its words, until his hands left the wall and clutched at her, desperate claws glancing off her suit but making her knees buckle at the heat of them anyway.

“How’s that?” she whispered, dodging his lips as she pulled away, feeling his body tremble against her and knowing she was shaking just as badly. “Proof enough for you?”

Chat gave up on chasing her and just hovered, eyes dark and hungry and _pleading._

It was a _power trip_.

It steadied her hands and had her sliding her fingers over his lips. It had her grinning, sly and smug as she untangled herself from him and took a step back on passably steady legs. It told her to lick her lips again as she did so, to savor the taste of him on them and to voice her appreciation.

At her hum, a tiny noise punched out of Chat, tight and hissed and broken, and Ladybug looked at him and thought, _I want you inside me so bad I can’t **breathe.**_

The power trip kept her from saying it.

“What was it…” she murmured as she walked back, high off the sheer need in his eyes. “’Kiss him at the door and leave him wanting more’?”

The flash of panic that crossed his face kept her from retreating more effectively than a roadblock would have.

“Silly kitty,” she whispered, touching a fingertip to his nose and leaning in. (He smelled good, so _so_ good, and all she wanted was to spend the rest of her _life_ with her mouth on his skin.) “Wait for the third date before asking if you can come in.”

If she even managed to wait _that_ long.

She waited for those dots to connect, waited for the wrecked whine to leave his throat, and then leaned back with a grin cut like a knife’s edge.

Chat slid down the wall into a puddle of mouthwateringly _wrecked_ teenage heartthrob, stunned stupid by _her_ , and her alone.

“Told you I could fuck you up better,” she purred, smug as a cat with a canary caught in its jaws.

Her canary just stared up at her, a flushed, panting, near-whimpering mess, and it took everything in Ladybug to keep walking back, to pick up her discarded Lucky Charm and toss it to the sky.

The storm of ladybugs detoured for a moment to fix Chat’s cuts and scrapes, and then dispersed to tackle the rest of the city, doing absolutely for the lust-addled fog in his eyes or the way she’d mussed his hair or bitten marks into his lips, which was a really fascinating thought that would really need to be experimented with. Soon.

Soon, but not now.

 _Three dates, LB_ , she told herself, forcing her body away from his and feeling like she was wading against a current to do it. _You can make it to three dates._

She glanced back one last time at the edge of the roof they’d stopped on, smiling at her partner for a moment before she left.

“Later, Chat.”

He raised a hand in farewell, and Ladybug left.

Frustration might have been a daily issue for your local superheroine, but at the moment, Ladybug couldn’t find it in herself to mind.

(A burden shared was a burden lightened, after all.)


End file.
